A Race Against Time - Personal Narrative

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A Race Against Time - Personal Narrative

" I can do it… I can …" I kept repeating this line over and over again

as I positioned myself at the starting point. The war of the crowd

seemed miles away and all that mattered was me, the track and the

clock. Time seemed to freeze for a split second as I began to crouch

to my starting position. It was an agonizing two seconds as I waited

for the splitting, piercing sound to erupt from the gun.

Now was that crucial moment. A decision that had kept my mind from

thinking anything else besides this race. I took half a second to

glance at my opponents on my right. These are the ones. The best of

this nation. The ones I had to beat. But what worried me was not the

other seven runners, but the clock, the record set back in

eighty-three. Yes, today, the twenty-year-old record would be no more,

and a new champion would be born.

My mind dangerously wandered off, breaking my concentration. What if…?

It was racing with thoughts of uncertainties, fear and doubt.

Winning was not a problem, it was making a mark in today's event that

was the challenge. If I were to just simply run this race, it would be

like leaving my footprints along the beach. Tide and time would wash

away those marks - someone else may beat my timing some other time,

and I would be nothing. Or, I could imprint my hands onto the blocks

of semi-wet cement in Hollywood, and there, I would stay forever -

just like my name would be a new barrier for any other inspired

runner, aiming for a record.

The sun's heat beat down upon us, sending endless streams of torment

and torture. It was unusually hot, and it worried me even more. This

race was not against each other, it was a race against time.

A bead of sweat slipped down my forehead and trickled slowly down my

neck. At that instant, the gun exploded, sending a thunderous shock

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